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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29276232">Write Your Letters</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAdorableTia/pseuds/TheAdorableTia'>TheAdorableTia</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Queen (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Childhood Friends, Fluff and Angst, M/M, rated for later chapters</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 04:02:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>14,024</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29276232</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAdorableTia/pseuds/TheAdorableTia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Roger had always dreamed of the day he would receive his soulmate notebook and pen. He always knew that he would love whoever the other person was at the other end of the connection. He only hoped that they would feel the same way about him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>John Deacon/Roger Taylor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>93</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>58</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Thank you so much for reading this! This chapter is basically a prologue, mainly to explain how the world works. I hope you enjoy! This chapter is suitable for all audiences!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>     Roger opened his eyes slowly. He didn’t want to wake up. Being awake meant he had to go to school, and that meant a day filled with boring lectures. At least he would be able to see his friends. The teachers weren’t very nice, and Roger had a hard time paying attention to them when they talked. His mind was always somewhere else.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     Their notes home to his parents in school reports always said that Roger was a very bright ten year old, but that he lacked focus; his head was always in the clouds, dreaming about the future.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     When he turned to look at the clock on the nightstand next to his bed, his view was partially obstructed by something that had definitely not been there the night before. It was a leatherbound notebook like the fancy kind he had seen some of the other kids in his class show off. Sitting on top of it, like it had just been placed there, was a dark green pen. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     It took a solid minute of confused staring before it finally sunk in. Roger sat bolt upright in his bed and quickly reached out and grabbed the notebook and pen off of the little table and held them close against his chest, hugging the objects tightly. He grinned so wide it hurt his cheeks. He had been dreaming of this moment for as long as he had been told about the special notebooks and pens. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     He leapt up out of bed and ran over to his little desk and opened up the notebook to the first page. It was still blank. He paused with his pen hovering over the paper.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     What was he going to write? He knew there were rules about the kinds of things that the book and pen would allow you to talk about. His mum had explained it to him after his classmate Martha had gotten hers and had shown it off to the class. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     He couldn’t tell his soulmate his name or where he lived. He couldn’t even tell them what he looked like. Roger had always thought that those rules were stupid. Why wouldn’t you be allowed to tell them who you are? It would make finding each other that much easier. Then again, a lot of things felt stupid to a ten year old.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     He took a deep breath and began to write in his neat, but childish handwriting.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Dear Soulmate,</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>     I’m really happy that I can write to you now. I dream about it sometimes. I can’t tell you my name or what I look like, but I can tell you other things. I like to ride my bike and play outside. I like summer, and I don’t like school. I’m good at gym class. I have a lot of energy. At least that’s what the teachers say. I can play guitar. I like to make music, and I like to sing. I live with my mum and dad, and I have a little sister. I like her most of the time, even if she cries a lot.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>     I hope that you are ok, and that you read this soon.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>     From, Your soulmate.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     Roger set down his pen next to the notebook, turned to the next blank page, and held his breath with anticipation. He knew that it wasn’t likely that his soulmate was going to answer him right away, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to hold on to that hope. He sat there for what felt like forever, but was really more like ten minutes when letters began to materialize before his eyes.. The writing was more shaky than his own, like the one doing the writing was still getting used to writing. The blond boy grinned again as the words slowly started to appear on the paper.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>     John noticed the notebook and pen on his nightstand almost as soon as he woke up. He had heard about them from his mum and dad, because they had ones of their own that they wrote to each other in. He had squealed in excitement and ran down the hall as fast as his eight year old legs could, clutching the objects in his hands. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “Mum! Dad!” He said loudly as he barged into their room, startling his parents awake. “Look!” He held up the little journal and pen at the end of their bed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “Johnny? What’s going on? Are you ok?” His father said as he rubbed at his eyes and looked at the clock. It was around the usual time they woke up, but most days they had to drag John out of his bed. It was true that John really did like to sleep, even if once he was up and going, it felt like he never wanted to go back to bed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “I got them! Just like you two!” He clambered up onto his parents’ bed a bit awkwardly as he kept holding tightly to the precious objects. He scrambled to sit between them and showed them the black leather notebook that had his initials embossed in gold on the front, and the sky blue pen that had come with it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “That’s wonderful honey.” His mum said as she stifled a yawn. She still smiled down at him as she wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “Have they written to you yet?” She brushed a bit of hair away from her son’s forehead.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “I haven’t looked.” He said, and blushed a little. He had been so excited to show his parents that he hadn’t even opened the journal up yet.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “Well, why don’t you open it up and see? You mum and I won’t look. If you need any help, just tell us and we will.” His dad said with a soft smile. The soulmate notebooks were sacrosanct. You did not open up someone else’s book without permission. To do so was the highest breach of privacy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     John nodded and said, “Close your eyes!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     His parents complied with smiles on their faces, both of them using their hands to cover their eyes as well, playing along with their son.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     To his surprise and joy, there was already a letter written on the first page. John read it slowly, running his finger under each of the words as he read them, mouthing the words silently. He was a really good reader for his age, but he wanted to make sure he understood every word. It took him a couple of minutes to make it through the whole letter, but he did it all on his own. He was very proud of that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “You can open your eyes now!” John said after he closed the notebook again. He grinned up at his parents.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “Do you want to tell us what they said?” His mum spoke softly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “They like to play outside, and ride their bike, and they don’t like school.” John said matter of factly. “Oh! And they have a little sister too!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “That’s great John!” His dad said while ruffling his son’s hair. “You should write them back. It would be rude to keep them waiting.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     John nodded again and clambered back out of his parents’ bed. He began to take off down the hall again to the sound of his mother calling out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “Don’t take too long, you still have to go to school!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     John sat down at his own little desk he used to do homework and turned to the next page. He began to write slowly, trying to make his letters as neat as he could.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  
  <b>
    <em>‘Dear soulmate,</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     I am happy too. I like to ride my bike and play outside too. I like the fall. The colours are really pretty. I like to dance. My mum and dad like to play music and we all dance. My sister is too small to dance so I help her. I like school. I get good grades. I like maths and music, but I can’t sing. I can play the recorder.</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     I have to go now. My mum says I have to go to school. I want to stay and write to you, but I don’t want to make my mum sad.</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>    Goodbye for now, Your soulmate.’</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     John smiled and closed his notebook. He set the pen on top of the book reverently and stood before running his small fingers over the embossed cover one last time before getting ready to go to school. He was the first in his class to get his and he couldn’t wait to tell all of his friends.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p> John set down his sky blue pen and closed his journal. He picked it up and held it tightly against his chest in a fierce hug, hoping that some of the love and care he put into that gesture could make its way to his soulmate on the other side. He imagined he was hugging his soulmate instead of the journal. It was a childish hope, but he did it nonetheless. </p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello everyone! So I fully intended to have this chapter up days ago, but that went out the window when the winter storm hit and I didn;t have power for a couple of days. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this installment!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>     Roger sat slumped over his desk. He had his cheek resting against his forearm while he tapped at his desk with his pencil. He was supposed to be doing homework, but his heart wasn’t in it. It never was though. He would much rather have been practicing on the drums that he had gotten recently, but his parents said he had to finish his school work before he could play them. If he waited too long, he wouldn’t be able to play them at all.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     He sighed and sat up straight before turning his head around and looking at the nightstand next to his bed. In the little drawer on the small table was his soulmate notebook and pen. He kept it in there for safe keeping, not wanting to lose it. He needed to find a better place for it though, because there were some days that he was scared that he might come home and find it missing. He’d kept it close for the past two years, even taking it to school with him sometimes.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     He’d gotten in trouble for writing in it during class, and when he’d come home that day, his father had threatened to take it away if he didn’t start paying more attention in school. He told Roger it was an embarrassment, having to be called by the school to say that his son hadn’t been paying attention. Of all of the things that man had said and done to Roger and his mum and sister, threatening to take his notebook had been Roger’s worst fear. That little book was his lifeline.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     Roger looked over to his closed bedroom door, and then tiptoed over to listen to see if he heard anything outside of it. There wasn’t any sort of noise or footsteps. His dad wasn’t home just yet. Roger quickly tugged the notebook and pen out of his nightstand and rushed back over to his desk, and opened it up, flipping through the pages filled with letters and notes. There had been some days where they had been writing back and forth, sentence by sentence. Those were Roger’s favorite times. It was nice to have a longer letter to read, but he liked feeling as if they were having an actual conversation.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     He smiled softly to himself when he saw that there was a letter from his soulmate waiting for him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  
  <b>
    <em>‘Dear Soulmate,</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     I’m sorry I had to go last time. My dad was going to teach me how to change the oil on our car. It was a lot of fun, even though I got really dirty. I like knowing how things work, you know that. I almost got that radio put back together all by myself! Mum said I can’t take apart the hoover, but I really want to. I want to know how it works! How is learning to drum going? It must be very noisy. I bet you’re really good at it, just like you were at guitar. I know I’ve never heard you play, but you must be! You practiced it so much. Sometimes, I thought I could hear you playing in my sleep. I have to go do homework now. Dad said I could write this letter first, but not to take too long.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     From, Your Soulmate.’</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     Roger rested his elbow on his desk, and leaned his chin in the palm of his hand as he read through the short letter. He smiled to himself as he remembered how his soulmate had told him about how they had taken apart his family’s old radio and then tried to put it back together. They had mostly succeeded, but still had to enlist the help of their dad to finish putting it back together.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     He felt a small swell of pride at his soulmate complimenting his ability to play the guitar and the drums. It was silly, they had never heard or seen him play, but they had the belief in him. It was a sense of unwavering loyalty and unconditional love that Roger treasured above all else. His soulmate would never judge him, or tell him his ideas were silly or unreasonable. At least, they hadn’t yet, but there was still time. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     He looked over his shoulder at the still closed door to his room and turned to a fresh page in the notebook, and quickly began to write, penning a short letter to the other.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     John set down his pencil and smiled at the papers in front of him. He had just finished up the last of his school work for the day. He had written a letter to his soulmate before he started, like he tried to do most days. His mum and dad had set the rule that he could write a letter to his soulmate after school before he did his homework, but he could only check for a reply after he had finished. It had made the ten year old very good at getting his homework done quickly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     He grabbed his soulmate journal and pen from where it sat proudly in the top corner of his desk where he left it most nights. More than once, he had fallen asleep with the notebook in his hands while waiting for a response from his soulmate while laying in bed. He had snuck a torch from the garage into his nightstand drawer just so that he could read through some of the older notes at night after his parents had gone to bed. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     John had thought he was being sneaky, but little did he know that his mum replaced the batteries in the torch for him every so often.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     He opened the journal and flipped through until he found the letter he had written earlier, and nearly squealed with happiness when he saw the next page had been written in.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  
  <em>
    <span>‘Dear Soulmate,</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     I’m glad you got to do that with your dad. It sounds like a lot of fun. My dad never does stuff like that with me. He doesn’t spend much time at home, and sometimes I wish he wouldn’t be here at all. He isn’t as nice as your dad. I think I’m getting better at the drums. I like them a lot more than the guitar. Mum says it helps me get out all my energy. She’s right, it does make me tired after I play. I have to do my school work now too. I get to practice my drums after I finish.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     Until later, Your Soulmate.’</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     John frowned a little at the letter. It confused him that they wouldn’t want their dad around, but his soulmate did say that he wasn’t very nice. They didn’t talk about him much when they wrote to each other, either. It was worrying to the ten year old. If their dad wasn’t nice, were they mean then? </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     John picked up his sky blue soulmate pen and hovered it over the next blank page. What could he say to his soulmate? </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  
  <b>
    <em>‘Dear Soulmate,</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     I’m sorry that your dad isn’t nice. My mum says that my dad has more love than he knows what to do with, so I’ll ask him if he can send some to you too. He already says that he likes you because you’re my soulmate. I like you too. You’re my best friend. I’m happy you’re in my life now. I can’t wait until I get to meet you for real. My mum is calling me down for dinner now, so I have to go. I hope I can write to you again before going to bed. </em>
  </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     Goodbye for now, Your Soulmate.’</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>
    
  </b>
  <span>John set down his sky blue pen and closed his journal. He picked it up and held it tightly against his chest in a fierce hug, hoping that some of the love and care he put into that gesture could make its way to his soulmate on the other side. He imagined he was hugging his soulmate instead of the journal. It was a childish hope, but he did it nonetheless. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     He didn’t let go until he heard his mother calling up from the kitchen that it was time to eat. He held the notebook up to his lips like he had seen his mum do to her own after she had been writing in it, and reverently placed it back in its spot on his desk. Somehow he knew that tonight would be another one of those nights where he fell asleep with the journal clutched tightly to himself.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Roger consoles his soulmate after finding out some distressing news.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey everyone! Here is the latest installment of Write Your Letters. In this chapter John is 11, and Roger is 13. Please Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>     Roger stared down at the blank page of the notebook, his brows furrowed with confusion and worry. The previous page still had the last letter he had written to his soulmate the week before, but nothing else had shown up since then. He’d looked through all of the pages, but nothing else had shown up yet. This notebook was nearly brand new, and Roger had already searched through older ones to make sure that his soulmate hadn’t gone back to a blank page in one of those, but there was no such luck.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     This was so unusual for both of them. Both of them didn’t write as much as they had when they first started, but they always made sure to at least check in every couple of days. Sometimes it was just a simple, ‘</span>
  <b>
    <em>Hi, I’ve been busy.</em>
  </b>
  <span>’ or ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m on holiday so I can’t write much</span>
  </em>
  <span>.’ It was something, though. This total absence of communication was very out of character for his soulmate. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     It had gotten Roger into a state. He was worried sick. Quite literally. He’d worked himself up so badly thinking about all of the things that could be wrong that he had nearly thrown up from the anxiety. He’d tried to hide his nerves as best he could, putting on a brave face and not letting it be known that he was sad or scared. That would only make him look weak in front of his father, and showing weakness was a sin in that man’s eyes.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     His mother was different though. She had seen how Roger was more restless than usual. He didn’t practice his drums as much, and when he did, it sounded like he was trying to break them. She’d brought him a cup of tea one afternoon when she heard him banging away at the kit with no rhythm at all, and coaxed Roger into telling her what was wrong. She had shown him sympathy, but hadn’t truly understood his plight. She didn’t know his soulmate like he did. She didn’t understand how much Roger needed them in his life. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     Roger curled up on his desk chair, tucking one leg under himself as he stared down at the page, trying to will something - anything - to appear. He thought about going over to his drum kit to relieve some of his tension by pounding away at the cymbals and tom toms. Just as he was about to get out of his chair to go over to the kit and bang out his frustrations, he checked the page in front of him again and saw that words were beginning to appear on the page.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     They were shakier than normal, the lines not as straight, like the writer was trembling as they wrote.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  
  <b>
    <em>‘Dear Soulmate,’</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     That was as far as his soulmate wrote. The words just stopped, like they had changed their mind or didn’t know what to write.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     So Roger started to write instead.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  
  <em>
    <span>‘Where have you been? I was worried about you!’</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     There was nothing from the other side for at least a full minute before more shaky letters showed up on the page.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  
  <b>
    <em>‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you.’</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     ‘I’m not mad, I was just scared. What happened? Did you lose your notebook?’</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     Roger saw little dots of ink on the paper beneath his words, like his soulmate was putting the pen to paper to write, but then changing their mind. The thirteen year old waited as patiently as he could for them to make up their mind about what they wanted to say. He hoped that they were still there.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  
  <b>
    <em>‘No, I had it with me every day. It helped keep me calm.’</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     ‘Were you upset? Is something wrong? Are you ok?’</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     Roger was much more worried now. It was one thing to speculate when he didn’t have any clue about what was happening, but knowing that his soulmate had been distressed the whole time was deeply upsetting.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  
  <b>
    <em>‘My dad died.’</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     Those three words hit Roger like a train wreck. He felt his heart drop down to his stomach, and his eyes began to burn as his vision went blurry with tears. It felt like Roger, too, had lost a dad in that moment. His soulmate had written him about how close they were, and how their dad liked Roger just for being his child’s soulmate. All of their stories about how their dad was teaching them to fix cars, and tinker with things around the house, and the little jokes their dad told flooded through Roger’s mind. He felt like he knew their father, and felt closer to him than he did his own.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     He sniffed and wiped at his cheeks and eyes to clear the tears there before he began to write back, his own hand shaking now.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>
    
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>‘I’m so sorry. I wish I could have met him. He was a very good person.’</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
  <span>Minutes passed by while Roger waited for an answer to come to him through the book.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  
  <b>
    <em>‘I wish you could have too. He was my second best friend, right after you.’</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>
    
  </b>
  <span>Roger felt that swell in his heart again. It was a sense of pride, and joy that his soulmate thought of him as his best friend. They were also his best friend. No one understood him like they did.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>I wish I could have been there for you. I want to give you a big hug right now. It’s stupid that this notebook won’t let you tell me where you are. I bet my mum would drive me right to wherever you are so that I could.’</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     The old frustration at the limitations set on the information that could be transferred through the notebooks came back tenfold in that moment. The urge to wrap his soulmate up in his arms and tell them that everything would be okay was weighing heavily in his mind. It was a heavier burden than any thirteen year old should have to carry, and yet there he was, comforting his grieving other half through words in a book.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  
  <b>
    <em>‘I want you here too. I don’t like hugs very much, but I think I would like them from you. When we find each other, I want the biggest hug you can give me.’</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     That made Roger smile. His other half didn’t like hugs. That was a little bit strange, but it did make Roger happy to think they would like hugs from him. Roger wasn’t just anyone. He was special to this other person, just as they were to him. He was just about to write back when his soulmate started writing again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  
  <b>
    <em>‘But how will I know it’s you? I don’t want to hug a stranger because I think it’s you.’</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     They made a very good point. Roger tapped the top of his pen against the paper, making little dots on it as he did so that they knew that he was still there. After a few moments of thought, an idea came to him and he quickly scrawled a suggestion onto the page.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  
  <em>
    <span>‘What about a secret code?’</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
  <span>John rubbed his nose with his sleeve, not caring that he would get snot all over his clean suit jacket. He hated the thing anyways. It was a horrid reminder or a horrid day.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     As soon as they had gotten home, he ran upstairs and shut himself in his room. He flung the stifling tie into a corner of the room and was determined to never have the thing on him again. He was sure some of his aunts and uncles were whispering about him disappearing, but John didn’t care about that. He hadn’t written to his soulmate all week. He didn’t know what words he could say to them. Words had escaped him. Any time he tried to sit down and write to his soulmate, his mind went completely blank.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     Right now, with his dad freshly buried in the ground, John needed them more than ever.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     He had begun to pen a letter, but before he could go past the greeting, his soulmate started writing to him. How long had they been staring at that page? How much worry and heartache did John cause them with his silence?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  
  <b>
    <em>‘A secret code? Like in spy films?’</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     The thought gave John the barest hint of a smile. That could be fun. It would be a bit odd, but that was the point wasn’t it? Something that would have meaning only to the two of them.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  
  <em>
    <span>‘Yeah! I’ll ask you a question, and then you tell me an answer. Really easy.’</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     ‘What will you ask?’</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>
    
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>‘Something silly. I can ask you about your shoes.’</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>‘That is silly. What if I’m not wearing shoes?’</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     ‘You’re right. What do you think then?’</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
  <span>John stared at the page for a few moments, and the smell of food wafted up into his bedroom. The adults must have been heating up some of the food that had been brought to the house over the last few days from neighbors. Then an idea hit the eleven year old.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  
  <b>
    <em>‘You could ask me about food. If I like something?’</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>
    
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>‘That’s a really good idea! I always like talking about food!’</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
  <span>John smiled again. It felt like his soulmate ate more than anyone else he knew. They loved to tell John about how they were always trying to charm extra portions from the ladies who doled out food at lunch in their school.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  
  <b>
    <em>‘My favourite food is cheese on toast.’</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>
    
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>‘Mine is pasta. Maybe I can ask you if you like pasta, and you tell me you like cheese on toast?’</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
  <span>John felt more tears rise in his eyes and then spill down his cheeks. He quickly wiped them away, and was about to answer when his mum spoke from his doorway.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     “Hey honey, there’s food in the kitchen. Come eat. Your aunts and uncles want to see you too.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     John looked over his shoulder and saw his mum’s puffy red eyes. She was smiling at him, but there was sadness there too. She had seen him clutching the notebook to himself all week, and she knew that whatever he was writing or reading was a comfort to him. She couldn’t begrudge her son that.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     “Ok mum. Let me tell them goodbye.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     She nodded and turned away and headed back downstairs to the rest of the family and friends gathered there.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  
  <b>
    <em>‘I have to go. Mum says I need to eat and my aunts and uncles want to see me. I like your idea. That will be our secret code. I’ll write to you later.’</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     John closed his notebook, and placed back in its little corner of his desk along with the bright blue pen and sighed. He stood and made his way out of his room, glancing back over his shoulder once at the notebook, and smiling just a little bit before heading back down to the condolences and sad looks of everyone around him.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Roger’s family has just moved to a new place, and John has a secret to tell his soulmate.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you so much for reading this! This one is still a bit angst but also a bit fluffy. I hope you enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>     John passed his pick over the strings of his guitar a few more times, his fingers switching back and forth on the wires. The sound that came out of the amp was ok, but not quite right. He furrowed his brow in concentration, his tongue sticking out between his lips a bit as he strummed the chords again. They were better this time.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>     He’d just started learning guitar a few months ago. His soulmate was so passionate about their love of music that it had bled into John. He’d decided to try his hand at playing guitar like they once had, and found that he enjoyed it. He’d always loved learning about new things, and learning how the guitar worked and how to manipulate it to create sound had been fascinating to him. He hadn’t told his soulmate about it yet, though. He wanted to surprise them with the knowledge after he’d gained some mastery over the instrument. If he had tried and failed miserably, he could just never tell them about the whole thing. He didn’t need to worry though. He’d taken to it like a duck to water.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>     He smiled proudly at his improvement, and sighed. His eyes moved across the room to the leather notebook sitting in its corner on his desk. He hadn’t heard much from his soulmate recently, but they had said that there was a lot going on, and that they might not be in touch for a few days. It didn’t stop John from checking for any updates multiple times a day.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>     He stood up from his bed, and gently set the guitar aside. He leaned it against the side of his wardrobe and crossed the room to sit at his desk. He flipped open his notebook, and was elated to see that there was a new letter from his soulmate there for him to read.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>     <em> ‘Dear Soulmate, </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>      I’m sorry I’ve been missing the last few days. I hope I didn’t worry you too much. My mum, my sister, and I were moving and we left so quickly, there wasn’t much time for me to write to you. We’re far from where we lived before, which is good. It means my father won’t come poking around looking for us. Mum said she’s going to file for a divorce. If you don’t know what that means, it’s where people who are married get unmarried. It’s better this way. Mum said that Dad wasn’t her soulmate, but she didn’t say anything else.  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>      It makes me sad that she spent so much time with someone who wasn’t good to her. I’ll always be good to you, I promise. I know we’ll meet someday, and I’ll do everything that I can to make you happy. You’re my best friend, and I love you. It seems silly to say to someone I’ve never met, but it’s true. You are the best thing that I have in my life, and you always will be. I hope you read this soon.  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>      From, Your Soulmate.’ </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>     John read the letter at least five times before the words truly sunk in. His soulmate didn’t live with their dad anymore. Their mum and dad were getting divorced. They had moved far away from where they used to live. They’d done it quickly, so it must have been a surprise. John was happy for his soulmate. They had never talked very nicely about their father. They had never said anything openly, but John had a deep suspicion that there was something much more sinister happening. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>     It was a feeling more than anything. It was in the way they wrote about the man that had set John’s nerves on edge about him. Maybe now that the man was out of his soulmate’s life, they might open up to him more about it. At least, John hoped they would.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>     John’s heart fluttered every time he read that his soulmate loved him. He loved them too. He had from the second he had read the very first letter. Every word since then had only solidified that feeling deep inside of him. His soulmate was funny, and sweet, and smart. John had spent many nights laying in his bed, trying to conjure up images of his soulmate in his mind until he fell into sleep. There was no way to know for sure until he met them, but John thought that they might have blue eyes. Bright like the sky, and deep like the ocean. That was the color that filled his dreams, in any case.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>     John grabbed his pen and sat staring at the next blank page in the notebook. He thought for several minutes before he set his pen to the paper and began to write a letter of his own. He scrawled his words across the page, his handwriting far better than it had been five years ago with the first letter.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</p>
<p> </p>
<p>     Roger sighed and shoved the last of his socks into their designated place, and shoved the drawer closed. It was the last of his clothes to be unpacked and he was glad to finally be done with the boring task. He still had to unpack all of his posters, records, and books, but he could do that later. His drumkit sat in pieces and boxes in the corner of his room across from his bed. There was barely any space in the small room as it was, but Roger was determined to have his kit in his room. He wanted to be able to practice away from everyone else, with a closed door and privacy. It was something he had been sorely lacking for a very long time.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>     He looked back over at the open wardrobe, and saw the uniform he would have to wear when he started school the following day, and let out a sigh. He never liked school. The best part had always been his friends, but now he wouldn’t have them. He would have to start all over with new ones. He’d always been good at making friends, though. His mum said he could charm blood from a stone. It was a pretty dark comparison, but it was still fitting.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>     At least he would still have his soulmate. They would always be there for him, no matter what. It was a sad thought as much as it was comforting. They would be there for him, yes, but only in their words. He wished so badly that he could just pick up and find them. He would roam the country looking for the person who was his match. He was sure they lived in England like he did. The way they spoke of things like the weather, the scenery, and holidays to different places had led him to that conclusion. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>     His eyes looked to the little nightstand next to his bed, and the little drawer there. He had placed the notebook and pen there almost immediately upon entering his new room. The only thing he had done before that was write a letter to his soulmate, letting them know that he had moved, and a vague overview of what was happening with him. His mum had insisted that he needed to get his things all set up before the following day so that they wouldn’t have to worry about it after school. With everything that was going on, he wasn’t going to push back against her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>     He’d also told his soulmate that he loved them in that letter. It felt like all at once, the emotions of the past few days had caught up with him, and he had spilled it out onto the page. He’d thought about his father, and the reasons why they had moved, and the divorce that his mother was going to seek. He never wanted any of that to happen to him, and more so, to his soulmate. He would never be like his father.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>     He decided that he deserved a break, and flopped down on his bed after taking the journal and pen from their hiding spot, and flicked through the pages. His mouth spread into a grin, and he quickly began to devour the words his soulmate had written to him. As he was reading, more words appeared on the page and he sat up quickly, beginning to quickly jot down his response, so that they knew he was there.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>     <b> <em>‘Dear Soulmate,</em> </b></p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b> <em>     I’m sorry that you’re going through all of that. I hope that you like your new house, and your new school. You took your drum kit with you, I hope. It would be awful if you had to leave it behind. </em> </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b> <em>     I’ve been keeping a secret from you. I’ve been learning how to play guitar for a few months now. I think I’ve gotten pretty good. I wanted to learn how to play because I want to make music with you someday. I can’t sing, and you play drums, so I thought I could play guitar. It’s pretty hard, but I do like to figure things out. It’s been really fun. And my mum says it helps keep me from taking apart the hoover or radio or toaster. She’s right. When I practice playing, I don’t think about taking things apart. I just think about how I can make the best sounds. </em> </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b> <em>     I want you to know that you’re my best friend, and that I love you, too. It doesn’t seem silly at all to love someone who is the other half of you. These journals and pens prove that. More than that-’</em> </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>      ‘Hello! I’m glad that I caught you! I’ve missed you so much. I wrote to you the moment we got into our new house, then my mum said I had to start unpacking. You've been learning guitar and you just now told me???’ </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> <b> <em>‘Sorry, I wanted to make sure I wouldn’t be horrible at it before I told you. If I was bad at it, I didn’t want to disappoint you.’</em> </b></p>
<p> </p>
<p>     Roger smiled fondly at those words. His soulmate wanted to impress him with playing guitar. Even if they had failed, Roger would never be disappointed in them, and he told them so.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>      ‘You wouldn’t disappoint me. I would’ve been happy that you were trying. Besides, I know you would have been good anyways.’ </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> <b> <em>‘You don’t know that. I might have been rubbish. I might still be.’</em> </b></p>
<p> </p>
<p><b>  </b>Roger let out an audible laugh at that. No, his soulmate couldn’t be rubbish. They were too smart, and too driven to be bad at something they set their mind to.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>     <em> ‘I don’t believe that for a second. I don’t think you could be rubbish at anything you put that big brain of yours to.’ </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p> <b> <em>‘You can’t know that. I might be awful at everything and I’m just trying to make myself look better.’</em> </b></p>
<p> </p>
<p><b>  </b> <em> ‘You would never do that to me.’ </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Roger knew in his very bones that was true. He also knew he would move heaven and earth for his soulmate, and that thought made him smile even wider as more words appeared on the page. Unpacking could wait a while longer.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Roger's gone on to University, and John has joined a band.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey everyone! Thank you so much for continuing to read this! This chapter is more about showing the development of their relationship with one another, and showing their individual growth. I hope you enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>     ‘Dear Soulmate,</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     I’m sorry I haven’t written in a few days, love. I’ve finally gotten myself settled in at my dorm. The first few days of classes have been brutal. I can’t imagine them getting any easier over the rest of the term, and beyond. I don’t know why I decided that fucking dentistry was a good field to study. I’ll have to stare into people's mouths all day, but I guess it seemed like a good idea at the time. And, yes, I know you told me that I should study music and musical theory, but my mum said I needed to ‘study something practical.’ I panicked, I guess. I’ve always been pretty good at science, but I didn’t know just how many giant words were gonna be involved in looking at people’s teeth. On the plus side, I’ve already managed to make some new friends. One bloke even said he and another friend were looking to start a band, and asked if I wanted to play with them when I told him I played drums. I have a really good feeling about it.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     Have you decided on your A-levels yet? I know you were wanting to do Electronics and Engineering, and I know you’ll do bloody fantastic at them. You’re on your way to a First Class degree, you’ll see. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     Thank you for all of the encouraging notes you’ve been leaving for me! I read them just before I wrote this. You have no idea how much they mean to me.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     I miss you terribly, I hope that we can write more soon. Until then,</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>     Love from, Your Soulmate.’</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     John set down the notebook in his lap. He sighed, and smiled just the tiniest bit. He was sitting in bed, getting ready to lay down for the night when he picked up the journal for one last check to see if his soulmate had finally written to him. He was giddy with excitement when he saw that they had finally written to him after five days of radio silence.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     John knew that would be happening. His soulmate had told him they would be unavailable for a few days while they were moving to Uni. Maybe when John went in a couple of years, they would meet up. There was no guarantee that they’d be in the same city, but the sixteen year old held on to hope. They had both figured out that they lived in the U.K. just by the way they wrote certain words, or references to certain things that were in the country. The most likely place his soulmate would have gone to university would be in London, and John had set his sights on getting there as well. Not just because of his soulmate, though that would be a huge perk. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     The best colleges were there, and he was dead set on getting into one. He was already scouting out different universities and colleges in the city, trying to figure out which ones he wanted to apply for, and which ones he would have the best chance of getting into. He also needed to figure out which ones would have the best financial grants that would help him survive the best. Living in the city wouldn’t be easy or cheap, but John was resourceful. He always had been.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     As he read the letter again, he smiled wistfully at the pet name that his soulmate had used for him. It was a small thing, but it always sent John’s heart racing. The fact that his soulmate thought of him as his love made John feel closer to them somehow. They weren’t just words on a page. They were a real person who cared about him and loved him unconditionally, and that one little word made him remember that every single time.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     He looked over at the clock on his nightstand and saw that it wasn’t too late yet, but his soulmate had probably already collapsed into bed. With as much strain as they had been under the last few days, John couldn’t blame them. He picked up the sky blue pen that he’d noticed was the same color as the color he saw in his dreams, and tapped the end of it against his lips while he thought of what he wanted to write back to his soulmate.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     He put pen to paper, and began to write with a smile on his lips. When he finished his letter, he closed the journal, brought it up to his lips and set it and the pen on his nightstand. He whispered ‘goodnight, sweetheart.’ And flicked off his lamp before burrowing under his covers and falling into sleep.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     Roger woke up slowly, his brain foggy and his eyes bleary. He reached over and slapped at the alarm clock on his nightstand until it stopped its obnoxious ringing, and flopped back down onto his pillows. University was turning out to be much more of a challenge than he had anticipated. He knew it wouldn’t be easy, but he had at least hoped that they would ease students into it. They had thrown them all into the fire without any sort of warning. He already had multiple assignments due in the next couple of weeks.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     He sat up slowly and rubbed at his eyes, trying to clear the sleep from them. He sighed deeply, and looked over to his nightstand. He’d stashed his current soulmate notebook in the drawer there, like he had back at home. He knew that he didn’t have to hide it anymore, but there was always something in the back of his mind that told him to keep it secret. The rest of the filled notebooks were stacked up in a drawer of the dresser. They were the only thing in his life that he truly kept organized. That, and his clothes. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     He reached over and took his notebook and green pen out of the drawer. He smiled as he looked through the latest notes his soulmate had left him before he’d gathered up the energy to write last night.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  
  <b>
    <em>‘You can do this! I believe in you!’</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     ‘Don’t have too much fun without me!’</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     ‘Kick their arses!’</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     ‘Don’t let anyone bite you!’</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>
    
  </b>
  <span>And Roger’s personal favorite, though he would never admit it to anyone.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  
  <b>
    <em>‘You are loved, no matter what.’</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     That last one hit him in the gut when he’d read it. He knew that his soulmate loved him. They’d said it to each other a couple of years before, but every time he was reminded of it, it felt like the first time all over again. Roger was loved just for being who he was.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     He turned the page past the letter he had written the night before and was met with a new letter from his soulmate. They must have written much earlier in the morning or last night after Roger had gone to sleep. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     ‘Dear Soulmate,</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     I’m glad that you’ve gotten settled in. I can only imagine how hard you must be working already. University is no small thing. I’m already looking into ones that I want to go to, and it’s been a challenge. I’m going to focus my A-Levels on Electronics, Engineering, and Maths. My tinkering hobby could come in handy. </em>
  </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     It’s good that you’ve started to make friends. I’d hate for you to be lonely while you’re there. And you’re in a band now too? I know you were anxious about being able to play while you were there, and that you missed your old band. I hope this new one makes you just as happy. My band has been doing good. We’re getting a couple of gigs here and there. I think we’ve gotten a lot better since I switched over to playing bass. It feels more natural to play it than to play the guitar. I certainly picked up on it faster than guitar. </em>
  </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     I need to head to bed, I’ve got A-levels to worry about now. </em>
  </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     I miss you too, sweetheart. Hope to hear from you soon,</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>     Love from, Your Soulmate.’</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     Roger leaned back against the wall behind his bed, and closed his eyes. Letters from his soulmate were like a balm to his soul. They always managed to calm him down, no matter how stressed out or worked up he was about whatever had been troubling him. They had a level head, which was in total contrast to Roger who always jumped into things headfirst, good or bad.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>     He sat there in contemplation for a moment before he looked over to his clock and saw that he didn’t have much time before he needed to head out to start his day. He groaned loudly at the idea that he was going to have to get out of bed. He flipped over to the next page and quickly scrawled out a response, the best he could do for the moment, and hopped out of bed to face his latest day of life.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>John is finally in college in London, and Roger feels guilty about not thinking about his soulmate as much.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you so much for reading this! I hope you enjoy it. This chapter shows more development between John and Roger, and how they’ve grown together.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>John rubbed at his tired eyes. The numbers, and letters, and lines in the paper in front of him were starting to blur together as he stared at them. He’d been working on this assignment for over an hour now, and even though he excelled at the subject, it was still an exhausting endeavor. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     He knew that Electrical Engineering would be a challenge, but he loved it all the same. He loved it almost as much as he loved playing music. He fully intended to go into the music industry after he’d gotten his degree. He thought he’d make a good sound engineer, or maybe work for a company that made instruments or equipment. He was already working on the design for his own homemade amp. It would be a machine that could make sounds that no other existing amp could. It would be if he could get the parts together. He was still working on that between lectures, labs, projects, occasional trips to the pub with acquaintances, and his part time job at an appliance store doing fix up jobs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     He looked down at the paper again, and grimaced to himself. He needed a break. He pushed the papers and textbooks away from himself, and pulled the little leather notebook he had stashed in the top corner of his desk down in front of him. He tugged the blue pen out from where he had it tucked between the pages, saving the last place where he and his soulmate had last been writing to one another.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     He laughed a bit at his fortune. He saw words appearing on the page. His soulmate was in the process of writing to him as he spoke, probably taking a break from their own studies. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  
  <em>
    <span>‘Dear Soulmate,</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>     I swear to god, this shite doesn’t get any easier. Who knew that anatomy would be this hard? I thought switching from dentistry to biology would lessen the load, but it turns out that it’s just as hard as getting a fucking medical degree! At least I don’t have to look in anyone’s mouths now.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     ‘I told you as much, sweetheart.’</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>‘Hey love! I’ve missed you. Feels like forever since I last got to ‘talk’ to you. I know I’ve been busy between classes, band practice and working at the clothing stall, but it seemed to stretch on without you to keep me company.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     John rested his chin in the palm of his hand, and smiled just at the corners of his mouth. His soulmate was so dramatic sometimes. If they weren’t so obsessed with music, John would have pegged them to be an actor or model. Even through words on a page, he could tell they were very expressive and outgoing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>‘We wrote like this three days ago, but yeah I’ve  missed you too.’</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>‘What have you been up to then? Having raging parties at Uni without me?’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
  <span>John smiled wide at that. His soulmate knew that he wasn’t the partying type. They seemed to be though. They had plenty of stories about their exploits after having a few at some bash. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  
  <b>
    <em>‘You know it. Had a full bar on my desk, and everything.’</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>‘Sad I missed it. I bet you’re right fun when you’ve had a few.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
  <span>John felt a bit of heat creep up in his cheeks at that. John hadn’t gotten drunk much. In fact, he’d only gotten drunk a handful of times since he’d moved to London and started at Uni. From what he gathered, he was an okay drunk. He got a bit more open and flirty, and he danced a lot more than usual, which was saying something because John enjoyed dancing while totally sober.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  
  <b>
    <em>‘I’m alright I guess. It makes it easier to go on the dance floor.’</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>‘Save one for me next time you’re out, love.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>‘Always do, sweetheart.’</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    
  </b>
  <span>And it was true, in a way. John did generally dance by himself. But, he liked to imagine at least once during every night he went out and danced that his soulmate was there with him. They’d told him many times before that they weren’t much of a dancer, but John thought that they would be graceful anyways. They didn’t have to be good at dancing. John just wanted them in his arms.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     Something squeezed in Roger’s heart at those words. There was something about his soulmate thinking about him not just during these letters, but on nights out when they should be having fun that tugged at his soul. Roger felt slightly guilty at that. Sometimes, he didn’t think about his soulmate for a whole day until he went to bed at night. He vowed to himself that he would try to do better. He’d write them every morning and night, no matter what. Even if it was only a few words.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  
  <em>
    <span>‘I’ll save one for you too then.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>‘You had better. I don’t know when I’ll go out dancing again. I’ve been really focused on this special project I’ve started up recently.’</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    
  </b>
  <span>Roger raised an eyebrow. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  
  <em>
    <span>‘What kind of project is it? You’re not tinkering with the mains again are you? I don’t think I could take another cardiac after that time you nearly electrocuted yourself!’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     ‘No, I learned my lesson last time. This is a secret project. I’ll tell you about it when I can show it to you. Not to mention it’s going to take some time to find the parts I’ll need. It’s just schematics right now.’</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>     ‘I’ll be first in line to test out whatever it is! I bet it’s something to do with music or your bass. Oh! We just got rid of another fucking bassist. Again!’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>‘What happened this time?’</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>‘He seemed alright at first, but turns out he was more of a prick than we thought. He played pretty good, but if I had to put up with one more fucking complaint about our rehearsal schedule interfering with his partying habits I was going to kick his arse.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     It really had gotten on Roger’s nerves. The guy didn’t seem to take what they were doing seriously. He, Brian, and Freddie knew that Queen was going places. They were certain of it. Finding a fourth member of the band who believed that too was proving to be more troublesome than they thought. They were already getting more fliers made up to post around different places I hoped of finding bassist number 4. Hopefully this one would stick.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  
  <b>
    <em>‘Sounds like someone who doesn’t have the passion the rest of you do.’</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  
  <em>
    <span>‘No. He didn’t. You would though. Any chance you want to come play for us?’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
  <span>Roger wished above anything else that his soulmate could join their band. They even played bass! It would be impossible to tell them how they could join though. The notebook and pen wouldn’t allow them to say exactly where they were. They were just guessing that they were now in the same city. At least, Roger was. He was pretty sure his soulmate was too. They were sharp as a tack, and would have seen all the same signs and made similar assumptions.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  
  <b>
    <em>‘I would in a heartbeat, you know that.’</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>‘I know love. You’ll always be welcome to join the band. My bandmates probably love you almost as much as I do with how much I go on about you sometimes.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>‘What do you tell them?’</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     Everything. Roger wanted to tell his soulmate that he told nearly everything to Freddie and Brian. Not the most intimate parts, but that his soulmate was a genius and kind, with a sharp wit and sharper tongue. That they played bass, and built things and that he knew they must be nearby.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  
  <em>
    <span>‘That you’re beautiful, and kind, and smart. You love music as much as I do, absurdly talented, and that you’ll be with us someday.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>‘Flatterer. You don’t know I’m beautiful. I could be a hideous monster.’</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     Roger smiled at that. There was no way on earth his soulmate would be anything less than gorgeous. No matter what other people might say, they were beautiful to Roger. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  
  <em>
    <span>‘I highly doubt that. You’re the most beautiful creature to ever walk this earth.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>‘And you’re the biggest lick arse I’ve ever had the pleasure of talking to. You just want in my pants.’</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>     ‘And what if I do?’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
  <span>Roger grinned at the next response and picked up the journal and pen and got up from his desk. He moved over to his small bed in his cramped room in the flat he shared with Freddie and got comfortable. This was going to be a long night.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Roger and John have suspicions.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello again and thank you for reading! I hope you enjoy it, and please don't hate me.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>
    <em>     ‘Dear Soulmate,</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     I’m sorry I haven’t written to you as much, sweetheart. I’ve been studying a lot, and I completed my special project! I’ve recently joined a band as well, and they’ve been keeping me on my toes. We’re supposed to play a gig soon, and I’m really nervous, but my band mates have been very supportive. I think you would like them. </em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     The lead singer is a character. His voice is really great. Bold and charming just like his personality. The guitarist is incredibly intelligent, and he can be quite stubborn sometimes. He’s an insane guitarist. I didn’t know guitars could make some of the sounds he’s managed to get from his. He also built it himself, with his dad. I think that’s really amazing. I wish I could have done that with mine.</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     They’re soulmates actually. The singer and the guitarist. It’s really sweet to see them together. They seem like such polar opposites, but it works for them, I suppose.</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     The drummer. What can I say about him? I think you two would get along like a house on fire. He’s loud and brash and funny. He’s a definite charmer as well. He makes drumming look like an art form, it’s amazing to see. We get along really well. He’s also studying biology! Maybe you two could trade notes or something.</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     It’s been hard to juggle school and music, but I have such a great time playing with them. I feel really good about the band. Even if all we ever do is play little gigs in shitty pubs forever, it’ll be some of the most fun I’ve had in my life.</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     I love you, and I miss you. I’m sorry if it feels like I’ve been neglecting you. I think about you all the time, and I promise that I’ll write more often.</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>     Love from, Your Soulmate.’</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     Roger stared down at the paper with eyes as big as saucers. His hands gripped tightly to the edges of the journal he held in his hands. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     His brain was whirring around at the speed of light. Everything in this letter felt familiar. The description of the lead singer, the guitarist and the drummer all set off little alarm bells in his head. Even the mention of the special project being completed made him think of something very specific he had seen in the recent past.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     This letter had been the longest thing his soulmate had sent to him in the last few weeks. Most of their messages had been short, talking about having band practice, progress with school and their special project. Roger’s own messages back had been just as short and filled with similar sentiments. He hadn’t checked the notebook in a couple of days by the time he had opened it tonight before going to bed. He’d finally had enough energy to do more than just crawl into bed and pass out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     Roger hadn’t seen the signs, hadn’t connected the dots until now, but suddenly it made total sense.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     Their new bassist, John Deacon, was most likely Roger’s soulmate.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     He set the notebook down, still opened on the page that held that most recent letter, and rubbed his face with both of his hands. His heart was racing ten times faster than it should. He knew that was physically impossible, but it certainly felt like it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     John was studying Electrical Engineering, just like his soulmate. He had built his own amp, and had brought it his audition and had used it at every practice since then. He’d moved from the Midlands to London just over a year ago to go to university. John had a sharp wit that only came out after a couple of weeks of being with the band and becoming more comfortable around them. His soulmate always talked about how they were shy around new people. John was also not very keen on being touched by people he didn’t know very well, but had become much more comfortable with the band since then.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     What if this was his way of hinting to Roger that it was him? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     But what if he wasn’t? What if it was all just a very big coincidence? What if John didn’t swing that way, and Roger looked like a total idiot for even suggesting it?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     Roger wasn’t sure he would be able to handle the rejection if it turned out that he was wrong. The young bassist was gorgeous, and so lovely. John was also quickly becoming a staple in his life. The man was an absolutely gifted bass player, and had a personality that meshed well with the group. Roger could easily see the band making it with Deaky a part of it. How could he mess all of that up with his suspicions?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     He looked back down at the page and the green pen sitting next to it that looked so much like the color of the eyes that looked over to him during practices to make sure that they were in sync. His heart skipped another beat as he reached down to grasp it in his shaking hand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     Maybe he couldn’t ask John outright, but maybe he could glean more hints from his soulmate that might just put his suspicions to rest.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     John growled in frustration as he tried connecting the wires of his latest school project. The equipment he was given to work with was a bit subpar for the job, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. This was what the college had provided for him to use and so he would make do. He was good at that, but sometimes there was just no saving something. If worse came to worst, we would just do what he did with own side project, and scavenge parts from the rubbish.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     He’d managed to build a functioning, kick arse amp out of trash, but he couldn’t put together this contraption the school was making him build. It was maddening.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     John set down his pliers with a loud thud and grunt of displeasure and sat back in his desk chair. He needed to take a break before he did anything else with this stupid thing. He brushed the hair away from his face, and looked at the leather notebook that had been moved from its little corner of his desk and onto the nightstand next to his bed. This coursework and project had been taking up so much space that he’d had to move it for fear of losing it or his pen among the clutter. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     He got up and retrieved it before settling down at his desk again. Now was as good a time as any to check for a response from his soulmate. He’d written them a pretty substantial letter a couple of days before, but hadn’t gotten a response yet.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     He flipped to the page where the next letter should be written, the smile on his face morphing into confusion and shock as he read it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  
  <em>
    <span>‘Dear Soulmate,</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>     I’m sorry if this letter has taken a while, but everything has been hectic recently, you know that. Some nights it takes all I have to just crawl into bed.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>     We had a new bassist join the band. I think this one will stick around for a long time. He reminds me so much of you. He’s shy, witty, and is an incredible musician. He’s a total brainbox as well. He built his own amp, and brought it to his audition! We play really well together. We’re really in sync. All it takes is a look and we can tell where the other one is going. Our singer took an immediate shine to him, and treats him like his little brother. God help anyone who tries to mess with him, because our singer will give them what for. He may not seem like it, but he’s pretty tough under the flamboyant exterior.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>     Our guitarist likes him too. You know he’s a bloody brilliant scientist, and more than once I’ve caught them talking about all sorts of things that I just can’t wrap my brain around.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>     It’s been hard to study, because all I really want to think about is the music. We have a gig coming up soon, too. Maybe I’ll see you there? </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>     I love you, more than anything. Never forget that.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>     Love from, Your Soulmate.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
  <span>John dropped the notebook like it was on fire. Could it be? Was he imagining it? When he’d written his last letter, he’d thrown in a bunch of hints about his suspicions. He’d thought maybe it was all a coincidence.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     There was no way that Roger Taylor could be his soulmate. There had been some small glimmer of something in the back of his mind and the pit of his soul, that told him to go for it. To see if anything he said might strike a chord, and reveal something to him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     It most certainly had. Everything his soulmate had written about had rung true to John. The flamboyant Freddie, the brilliant Brian, the way he and Roger were able to pick up on each other’s cues with nothing more than a glance. The most important piece of information was the mention of the amp. His special project. An amplifier made of trash that had helped him nail the audition to join Queen. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     John’s head spun, and he had to close his eyes, sit back in his chair and take deep breaths to steady himself. Roger was his soulmate. There could be no two ways about it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     But it couldn’t be true. John couldn’t be that lucky to have someone so beautiful as his soulmate. Not to mention Roger was a bit of a ladies man. Even though he knew the blond was searching for his soulmate, and holding on hope to finding them soon, he was a flirt. John had seen him charm women on a night out after a band practice. There was no chance he’d glance in John’s direction like that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     He brought his thumb up to his lips and worried at his nail as he stared down at the hastily dropped notebook. He couldn’t tell Roger his suspicions. He couldn’t risk his place in the band if it turned out that he was wrong. He was the new guy, and would certainly get kicked out if he said something and it offended Roger.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     No. He would keep his mouth shut, and hope that everything would turn out alright.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>John and Roger just can't take it anymore.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello Everyone! Thank you so much for your continued support of this fic! You've waited so patiently for this, and here it is, the penultimate chapter of Write Your Letters. Please enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>     John knocked at the door to Freddie and Roger’s flat, and stuck his hands back in the pockets of his coat. It was an unseasonably cold day for April, but that was British weather for you. You could always trust it to be cold and rainy whenever it wanted to.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “Hey Deaky!” Roger said with a grin as he opened up the door for the bassist. John returned the smile as he entered the flat, waiting until Roger had closed the door behind him to take off his coat and boots. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “It’s supposed to be spring, but apparently the weather didn’t get the memo.” John said as he shook out his hair. It was slightly damp from the light drizzle of rain that had permeated the air for his entire trek to the flat from his dorm.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     The flat was reasonably warm, the radiator admirably trying to do its job, but not wholly succeeding. He left on the jumper he’d been wearing under the coat to stave off the slight bit of chill that still hung around.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “Where’s Freddie and Brian?” John said as he followed the blond man into the kitchen where the kettle was already on the range, heating up water for some much needed tea. They were supposed to be having a band meeting about the gig coming up the next weekend. It was going to be their first as a group, and they all wanted to sit down and have a group talk about the set list. Well, Brian, Roger and John wanted to talk about the set list. Freddie wanted to figure out how to coordinate outfits.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “Brian called and said he couldn’t get away. That professor he assists is on a tear about making sure all the papers got graded before Monday. After that, Freddie said it didn’t make sense for us to have the meeting if one of the members was missing, so he took off to go trawl the charity shops for gig outfits.” Roger rolled his eyes as he lit up a cigarette from the burner beneath the kettle, and took a long drag.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “And you didn’t call me to let me know?” John raised an eyebrow at the drummer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     Roger blew out the smoke from his lungs and smiled. “I called your hall, but you’d already left. I couldn’t very well telepathically tell you, as cool as that would be.” He reached up and pulled two mugs down from the cabinet. Both were the cheap novelty kind that were likely uncovered in novelty stores and charity shops. One said “Cocks Out For Cornwall” while the other had a handle shaped like the London Bridge.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     Roger went to go sit down at the kitchen table while the water in the kettle heated up. John stood by the stove, holding his hands out over it to let some warmth seep into them after the cold tube ride and walk.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “Now that I’m here, we can at least talk about some of those sections I’ve been worried about. I could cook us my specialty, too.” John said as the kettle began to whistle after a few minutes of somewhat tense silence between the two. Roger could see the slight stiffness in John as he stood there, like he wasn’t totally comfortable where he was. Like something was weighing on him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     Roger went a bit tense at John’s words. The letters and notebooks went flitting through his mind. He stamped out the cigarette in the ashtray on the table and looked over at the bassist who had turned off the gas under the kettle and poured water into the mugs after placing tea bags from the little box on the counter in each one. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     Roger watched as John pulled out the jar of sugar and dug in the fridge for the milk, like he was right at home. That tense set was still there in his shoulders, but as Roger watched him, it felt like that was where he was supposed to be. Without the rigid posture, of course. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     It ached deep inside of him, even more than it had for the last few days since he’d written that letter to his soulmate. To John. He knew it had to be him. As he sat there at the kitchen table and watched the brunet move around the kitchen preparing tea, a vision that was so domestic and </span>
  <em>
    <span>right</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Roger knew he had to take that leap. Even if he was wrong, he had to know that he wasn’t going crazy. It would feel better than the layer of tension that had settled over them the last few days.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     Roger took in a deep breath in and left it out slowly, and silently.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “John,” Roger said, waiting until the bassist was looking directly at him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “Yeah Rog?” John replied with one eyebrow quirked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “Do you like pasta?” The blond said it with an expression so serious, it might have been the important thing he’d ever said in his life.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     John looked at Roger with a slight bit of confusion, but then understanding drew across his features as it sank in. Roger looked at John expectantly, his eyes wide and filled with a mix of fear and hope.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “I prefer cheese on toast.” John’s voice was soft, barely above a whisper when he spoke. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     It took less than a moment for those words to sink into Roger’s brain. He sprang up out of the chair he was sitting in and bolted across the short space separating himself and John. He plowed into the younger man and wrapped his arms around him in a tight embrace. He buried his face against John’s shoulder and breathed him in.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     John’s arms clung to Roger just as tightly, his hands fisting in the material of his shirt.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “I’m so happy it’s you Rog. You have no idea how much I hoped it was you.” John said softly against Roger’s ear. “Oh sweetheart. I love you. I love you no matter what.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     Roger felt his eyes burn, and tears began to run down his cheeks. They spilled onto John’s jumper, making the material wet with them. “I love you too. I love you more than anything.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     John pulled back from him, just a bit. They still held on to one another, their bodies flush against each other. Roger sniffled, and saw that John, his soulmate, had tears running down his cheeks as well. Like Roger, we had a wide grin on his face, showing off the little gap in his front teeth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “Oh love,” Roger said as he let go of John, only to bring his hands up to either side of the man’s face, using his thumbs to wipe away the tear tracks there. “I told you that you were the most beautiful person I would ever see. And you are John. You are the most gorgeous person in the world. Inside and out.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “And your eyes are just the color I knew they would be. Blue as the sky, and deep as the ocean.” John said, remembering the color that had danced around in his dreams. It was really soppy, and both men knew it. They were allowed though. They’d just found their soulmate, after all.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “Told you I’d hug you as soon as I knew it was you.” Roger said with a soft laugh as his thumbs rubbed back and forth against John’s cheekbones. John’s hands stayed glued to Roger’s waist like a lifeline, like if he let go then his soulmate would disappear.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     John chuckled just as softly, his hands sliding along Roger’s sides. “There’s something else I wanted to do too, you know.” A mischievous smile crossed his well shaped lips.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “And what’s that?” Roger said, already guessing where this was going, and anxious to get on with it. He had wanted this for so long.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     John smiled and leaned in, pressing his lips to Roger’s in a sweet, tender kiss. Roger smiled against John’s lips before kissing him back just as gently. Their lips fit together like they were made for each other. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     And really, weren’t they?</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Happily Ever After.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you everyone who has been reading this story! This is the epilogue. The happily ever after, because the sweet beans deserve it.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>     11 YEARS LATER</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     Roger looked up over the edge of his book at his soulmate. John was seated right next to him on the couch, legs folded up under him with a book of his own in his lap. His cheek was resting on his fist as he read through the words on the page in front of him. He looked serene and peaceful, and just as beautiful as he had eleven years ago when Roger had first met him. More so, even. John had aged into a handsome man from the beautiful boy that he had been all those years ago. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     Roger counted himself lucky to have been blessed with a soulmate like John. He was intelligent, kind, sassy, and an extremely talented musician. He was Roger’s best friend. He had been ever since they had written their first letters to each other over two decades before. The fact that he and John got to experience their crazy rock and roll life together was the biggest blessing that Roger could have ever asked for.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     It was moments like this, though, that Roger truly appreciated the most. The quiet times where they were allowed to just </span>
  <em>
    <span>be</span>
  </em>
  <span>. There were no cameras, no press, no roadies or band mates. It was Roger and John, and the blond would treasure these little bits of peace for his entire life. As much as he loved being a rockstar, he loved John even more.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     It was that thought that had his mind wandering to the nightstand beside their bed, where his soulmate notebook and pen resided. There was something else there too, hidden deep at the back. Something nearly as precious as the other two objects.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     John didn’t know about this particular object, not yet. He would though. Soon.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     Roger put his book all the way down and shifted a bit in his seat, leaning in and resting his head against John’s shoulder. Gone were the long waves of fluffy brown hair that Roger had loved to tangle his fingers in. It was now replaced with a mop of permed curls that Roger still liked to tangle his fingers in.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “Hello sweetheart,” John said with a smile that showed the gap in his teeth. He leaned down and gave Roger a kiss on the top of his head on his much shorter, pale blond hair.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “I love you.” Roger said as he turned his face up to return the smile with one of his own.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “I love you too.” John said as he ducked down to plant a chaste kiss to Roger’s lips.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     He had stubble on his cheeks and jaw, and he’d been doing more working out in recent years. He’d always had a light dusting of chest hair, but it had gotten more prominent since they’d first met. Roger loved all of it, and he made sure to remind John about it every single day. And tomorrow, he’d give him the biggest reminder of them all.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     John woke the following morning wrapped around a virtual heater. Roger’s body always ran warm, something John had been grateful for in the early days of the band and their official relationship. It wasn’t easy being a struggling rock band, and sometimes the choice between heat and food had been a very real trouble. Nowadays, they didn’t need to worry about making that decision. They would be able to afford both for the rest of their lives.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     He still loved that Roger was always so warm, even on mornings where he had to force himself away from the comfortable nest of blankets and the blond. Days like today. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     He looked over the sleeping form that had attached to him, their nude bodies tangled up under the sheets. John ran a finger along Roger’s brow, moving some of the hair away from his forehead.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     Roger was quite a devil when he was awake, filled with fiery passion, a hot head, and such a zest for life. When he slept, he looked like an angel. The blond hair and face that after all of these years still straddled the line between handsome and beautiful was something out of a painting. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     He leaned forward and brushed a featherlight kiss against Roger’s forehead before gently extracting himself from his lover’s embrace. The drummers brow furrowed ever so slightly, like it always did when John got out of bed in the morning. It smoothed away though as he buried himself further into the blankets and he fell back into blissful sleep.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     John got up out of bed and stretched before tugging on a pair of pyjama bottoms from the dresser and an old t-shirt he was pretty sure belonged to Roger. It didn’t matter. They’d made a habit of sharing clothes since the beginning anyways. The whole band did.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     He went into the loo to take care of business, using the toilet and brushing his teeth before he quietly made his way downstairs. He started up the coffee machine and thought about what he might want to write in his notebook this year. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     He and Roger still wrote to each other, mainly when they had to travel places separately, and every year on their anniversary. Like today.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     By the time the coffee was ready, John had gotten some sort of idea about what he wanted to put to paper. He fixed himself a cup, and took it with him to the little office he had set up in the large house. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     He took a sip of the coffee before setting it down on his desk, and grabbed the latest of his notebooks from the shelf. He sat down in his desk chair and pulled the blue pen that was the same shade of blue as his soulmate’s eyes from the cup in the corner of his desk.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     He flipped open the book and paged through it, smiling softly at some notes they had written to each other the last time they’d had to travel abroad without each other. When he got to the latest page, he startled a bit. It should have been empty. He was always the first one to write his letter on their anniversary, just because he was always the first one up in the morning.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     He felt his eyes burn, his vision blurred and tears began to roll down his cheeks as the six simple words looped through his mind.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  
  <em>
    <span>‘Dear Soulmate,</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>     Will you marry me?’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
  <span>John let out a sound that was a cross between a sob and a laugh. He wiped at his face, dispelling the tracks of tears even as more ran down his cheeks, his joy at this moment overwhelming him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     With a shaking hand, he put pen to paper and wrote his answer. He stood from his seat after dropping the pen and rushed out of his office and back through the house to join his soulmate back in bed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     He left behind his nearly untouched coffee, notebook open to the page with the simple question, and the simple answer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  
  <b>
    <em>‘Yes’</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     John bounded back into their bedroom, and was surprised to see that Roger was sitting up in bed, his hair still mussed from sleep. There was a slightly dopey grin on his face, and a small velvet box clutched in his hands on his lap. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “Morning, love.” Roger said with that grin still on his face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “Yes.” John said with a voice halfway between a sob and a laugh. “Yes, Roger. Yes!” He leaped forward onto the bed, hastily crawling until he was straddling his lover’s lap. He took the blond’s face in his hands, cradling it tenderly and leaned in to press a passionate kiss to the man’s lips.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “Yes what?” Roger said when John pulled away from their kiss, now looking more cheeky than anything.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     John rolled his eyes and lightly shoved at the drummer’s shoulder. “Yes, I’ll marry you, you numpty!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     Roger looked satisfied and brought up the little velvet box he’d been clutching in his hand. He opened it to reveal a simple platinum band with a small inset black stone. It was classy and elegant and perfect for John. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “Put it on me then.” John said as he held up his left hand between Roger and himself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “Alright, Deaky, keep your pants on.” Roger said with a small chuckle as he took out the ring and slid it onto John’s hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     Both men studied the way the light bounced off of the metal in sunlight streaming through the window for a moment before Roger urged John back towards him for another kiss.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “I do believe this calls for a celebration.” Roger said against John’s ear as his hands roamed along his sides.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “For that I’ll have to get rid of the pants.” John smiled that gap toothed grin and leaned in for another kiss.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you again for reading this. Major MAJOR shout out and endless gratitude to AteYellowPaint who is an absolute darling and lifesaver. Thank you so much for beta'ing this for me because otherwise it would have been a great big mess. Please go check out their stuff after you read this, because they are one of the best!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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